


Dimensions of Love

by ER_Lovelace



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-12-03
Packaged: 2018-01-20 10:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 17
Words: 15,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1507538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ER_Lovelace/pseuds/ER_Lovelace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam and Niall have always been meant to be. </p>
<p>Things just happen differently in some cases.<br/>Like when they're neighbors.<br/>Or when they're classmates.<br/>Or clients. </p>
<p>No matter the situation, though, they are always meant to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Fresh Roses

**Author's Note:**

> This is a collection of one-shots put together in a chaptered story, because I do love my chaptered stories. Every chapter is a different universe, in which things happen a little differently. Don't expect things to be the same in each.
> 
> Also, I hope you enjoy, as this is one of my first fics, yet certainly not my last. :)

Liam enjoyed walks like this; just random saunters through the streets of whatever city they happened to be in, the paps following some wild goose chase so the lads could have a day to themselves for once. 

The air was crisp, but not biting, and the singer’s thin jumper kept him warm enough as he wandered the streets looking at the various shops and stalls. 

One in particular caught his eyes, a splash of red in a sea of greys and browns. A stall selling roses, looking like they’d only just been cut, for only 1.25, smack in the middle of the walkway. 

Out of nowhere, Liam bought one, glad for once that he carried something other than plastic in his billfold. 

“Must be a special one.” The saleswoman commented. “If you’ve come all the way out here.”

Liam pondered that for a moment, startled when he realized the blonde hair and blue eyes didn’t belong to anyone he would’ve usually considered as special to him, at least romantically.

“Uh, yeah, I s’pose so.” Liam replied, taking the rose and walking away. He wondered about the image he’d seen. _How odd,_ he thought, _that Niall was the one I thought of. I never really thought of him that way._

So when Liam got back to their hotel, he put the rose in a vase in the room he shared with Niall and fired up his laptop. He stayed on it for hours, not really looking at Twitter or Tumblr, just kind of staring at the screen.

“Hey!” Liam jumped at the sound of Niall’s voice, glancing to the rose inadvertently which in turn made Niall look at it. “What’s that?”

“Er.....it came today, for you.” Liam said quickly. “I dunno who it’s from though.”

“Oh.” Niall said, obviously surprised as he pulled the rose toward his nose. “Wow, that’s fresh too. Huh. No card or nothin’?” 

“Didn’t see one.” Liam replied, glancing back up at Niall. Liam took pride in the touched and slightly red expression Niall had. 

“Well, that’s kind of them.” Niall commented lightly, still sporting a gently grin. 

“Yeah...” Liam mumbled; When Niall shifted slightly, still looking at the rose, Liam realized he’d been staring and looked back at his screen.

* * *

During the extent of their tour, Liam always ensured that there was a rose waiting for Niall when he came in the door. Not once did he tell Niall that it was he, nor did he give any clues—not that he could’ve, I mean, really, _he_ didn’t even know why he was doing it—yet Niall continued to be amazed that someone continually gave him a rose.

Soon enough the paps caught wind of it and all the papers were talking “Niall Horan’s Secret Admirer” or something of the sort; after Simon discovered it made Niall uncomfortable to be watched so closely after that, security was tightened and all the paps backed off a bit, just in the hopes of getting on Simon’s good side again.

This continued for months, past the day Liam discovered that he was doing this because he had feelings for Niall, past the day Louis and Eleanor ended because Lou was paying more attention to Harry than Eleanor, and long past the day Zayn gave up on quitting his disgusting smoking habit. It only stopped a few nights after Liam realized what he felt for Niall was indeed love.

It happened at their concert, the last of their tour. Liam had gotten a rose from that same stand the first came from, and at the very end of the concert, Liam got Harry to bring the rose onstage, along with the card he’d written that afternoon. (Of course, that required he tell Harry about what had been happening, and Harry couldn’t keep a secret to save his life, so Louis and Zayn knew within the hour, and by the concert, Niall was the only one who didn’t, but still, it all worked out.)

Niall read the card quickly, rose in hand, and Liam watched Niall’s expression go from a happy surprised to confused to realisation as the Irishman looked at him.

“You?” Niall asked softly, his voice echoing through the venue because of the mic. “You’re the one who’s been giving me the roses?”

The crowd was silent as they waiting. “Yes.” Liam said softly, not caring that his mic was still on. “ I love you, Niall. I’ve had feelings for a while, and I just...I wanted you to know now. It was too much to hold in. I love you, I really, really do, and I hope this isn’t one of those one-sided things that tears the band apart because I’m really not sure I could handle that and all the guilt it’d come with along with the heartbreak, I mean really, this is such a big thing, and I had absolutely no clue if you felt anything close to what I—”

Niall’s kiss gave him his answer.


	2. Murder of the Second Degree

She killed her son. 

Liam and Niall had been happy, before. They hung out together, watching movies, playing games, mucking about. They had normal lives.

Until she killed him.

Liam was perfectly fine not noticing. He was content in not noticing the way the sun made the Irish lad's hair shine, or how his eyes always told more than he wanted, or how how his accent got thicker when he was excited or drunk. He was fine not noticing his noticing.

And then she killed him.

Niall's the one to blame for his noticing, really, since he came out first. Just walked into school one day wearing a shirt that read "I'm homo and I know it." He never was one to do anything quietly.

Until his mother killed him.

Liam was next, though his coming out was much more gradual, Liam accepted it, told his friends--including Niall--and then word spread around school that Liam Payne liked cock. Some would approach and ask, he would confirm, and life went on.

Until his mother killed him.

Liam didn't come out to his family until well into his relationship with Niall, and even then it was only when the blonde was so tired of lying that he was considering ending it all. Liam talked to Niall and his family, just in case, and the brunette had his phone ready and waiting.

And then his mother killed him.

One sentence. Liam hadn't known that four words could hurt so much, but they did. Liam zipped his waiting luggage with his mother's words playing in his mind. _Get out, you faggot!_ They were still ringing in his ears when he called Niall, who arrived not five minutes later. 

His mother killed him.

And from the remains of who he used to be stepped a new Liam, a stronger Liam, one that had the support and love of those that mattered most, and moved on from his murder.


	3. Maintenance

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please note that this a continuous work, and probably will never be "completed" because I will probably constantly be adding onto it. :D

“Why did it stop?”

“What?” Liam asked, too concerned with ignoring the only other boy in the elevator to actually hear what he had said.

“The lift. It’s stopped.” Niall replied.

“Oh no.” Liam pulled out his mobile and called the main desk, thankful that he had signal in the small space. “Hello? Yes, my name is Liam Payne, the lift I’m in has stopped...what do you mean ‘broken’...I see. About how long—...I see. Thank you for your cooperation.” Liam pressed the end call button harder than strictly needed, but it didn’t matter. What mattered is that he was stuck in a run-down, smelly, terrible looking lift. With Niall Horan.

“So...how long?” The Irish lad asked briskly.

“Six hours, at least.”

“Jesus.” Niall muttered as Liam sat down; the Brit figured he may as well, since they were clearly going to be there a while. “What are we s’posed to do for _six hours_?” Niall kept talking, but Liam didn’t bother listening. 

Niall had always grated on Liam’s nerves, with his stupid accent and terrible dye job and overly-cheery attitude. Everything the boy did annoyed him, and Liam honestly couldn’t say why. 

“So, you wanna play cards? I figure it’ll pass the time fairly well.” Niall suggested; it was clear he wasn’t fond of the idea and only suggested in an attempt to stay occupied.

“Fine. I don’t care. Just...don’t talk too much.”

* * *

Four hours later they had attempted to play poker, rummy, old maid, blackjack, hearts, and go fish, all of which failed miserably with one accusing the other of cheating. After trying to play cards, they played Pictionary, hangman, and a Spanish game Niall knew called Basta, all of which failed miserably, the latter mostly because Liam unfortunately did not know Spanish.

“This is ridiculous.” Niall blurted out, quite obviously annoyed.

“Well maybe if you wouldn’t choose the same letters, we would have a larger variety. Or, y’know, if we played in _English_!” 

“No, not that. This...thing, with us. Why do we even not like each other?”

“Because you’re annoying and you cheat!”

“No, Liam, really.” Niall said softly. “I have issues with you because you act like you’re better than everyone else just because you’re smart and older. Why do you not like me?”

“You’re too...loose.” Liam replied after a minute or three. “It’s like you don’t care about anything at all, like everything is just perfect and wonderful, with sunshine and rainbows and unicorns. It’s totally unrealistic.”

“I think you’re jealous.”

“ _What?!_ ”

“Seriously. I think you envy my ability to be so relaxed about things.”

“And what? You’re jealous that I’m smart?”

“Yup.” Niall’s truthfulness took Liam off guard. “I am. I think if we can move past that, we could be friends.”

“Friends? Really? I highly doubt it.”

“Don’t you think it’s at least worth a try?”

Liam did agree, and that scared him. He’d always known—and denied—that underneath the dislike for the Irish lad there lie other feelings, ones he didn’t exactly want.  
Reluctantly, Liam agreed to try to be friends with the other boy. After talking for about another thirty or forty minutes, Liam actually felt the dislike not only lessen, but completely disintegrate from inside him, leaving only that underlying feeling for the blonde. It surprised even Liam when, in the middle of Niall’s sentence, he leaned over and kissed the Irish boy.

It wasn’t a long kiss, by any viewpoint. No more than five seconds, really. They both knew, though, that something between them was inexplicably altered when Liam was the one to pull away.

“What—”

“I have no idea.” Liam interrupted, as stunned by his actions as the Irish boy was.

“Why—”

“I kissed you.”

“Yes.”

“And you kissed back.”

“Yes.”

“And I...liked it.”

“Yeah.”

“Did you...like it?”

“Oh yes.”

“Niall...what does this mean?”

“I’ve no idea.”

“Are we...gay?”

“Would that be so terrible, Liam?”

“I don’t know.”

“So...what happens now?”

“I’m not sure.”

“Do you...do you like me? Like...that I mean?”

“...I think so.”

“Oh.”

“Do you...”

“Yes. For a while now.”

“Me too, I think.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Huh.”

“Niall...can I...”

“Yes?”

“Can I kiss you again? Because...I really like kissing you.”

“’Course you can.”

“Awesome.”

“In fact, you never have to ask again, Liam.”

* * *

When the lift doors opened three hours after that, everyone waiting downstairs was met with a rather nice view of Liam’s bum as he was bending over to collect papers they’d strewn about in the mess that was the attempt at playing rummy earlier. Somehow, it seemed to the onlookers, that not only had the dynamic of the two lads’ relationship had changed, but their clothes somehow had switched as well.


	4. Blasphemy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one does feature large hints at murder and serial killings so if that kind of thing will trigger you and whatnot, then that's totally fine, and you can completely skip this.

There was blood. Lots of blood. Pools of it were everywhere, spreading into each other over the church floor to form larger pools of it. Niall trailed his fingers through one of them, smearing it along, and gave a soft smile.

“It’s messy.” A voice called from somewhere in the rafters above him. 

“You never specified clean.” Niall responded, wiping his hands off on his jeans as he watched a taller man descend the bell tower staircase. Niall’s smile grew into a grin at the sight of him. “Besides, if memory serves you like it dirty.”

“Not when there’s police to worry about, Niall. We can only pray you didn’t leave any fingerprints.” 

“Oh I think we’re long past praying, Liam.” Niall sauntered over to the man and ran a finger along his jaw. The Irishman was unfazed by the harsh tone in the other’s voice; Niall knew that Liam was like this out of care, because he was constantly worrying about if they were caught, how he would get Niall out of it. It was very endearing to the blonde. “After all,” Niall continued, “I doubt God listens to murderers.”

Liam caught his wrist and Niall was sure the older man could feel his heart racing at the contact.

“I suppose there’s no hope for us then.” Liam said dryly, voice low and making Niall’s stomach do rolls.

“Keep it up, Li. I’d hate to get these clothes bloody, but I might have to if you keep talking like that.” Niall told Liam, who just smirked and pulled Niall’s hand into his own.

“We’d best get going then.”


	5. Warm Milk and Banana Bread

Niall had been frequenting the small café for months, and it wasn’t unusual to see a bum or two on the curb outside. The place was ideal, really, since it was on the corner of two ever-active streets.

The café itself was owned by a friend of Niall’s—who still made him pay full price for everything, thanks to that damn Styles—and Niall went there every day after class just to relax and have a decent atmosphere in which to do his work. 

Every day when he arrived and left, Niall would drop a few coins—maybe even a pound or two, if he could spare it—into the tin cans that the bums had. Harry always told him not to, that it only encouraged them and really they were probably going to use it to buy drugs anyway, but Niall still did. He didn’t know what the peoples’ stories were, but they needed money and he had some to spare.

So it was more out of habit than charity that Niall dropped a few coins into each tin as he passed, only to find that the man nearest the door to the café didn’t have a tin. Niall glanced quickly at the cardboard sign he was holding, and had to read it a couple of times before he actually understood and noticed the sleeping bag nearby. The blonde blinked away his surprise and went inside, glancing back as he did.

“Hey Nialler!” Louis’ voice rang out. Niall shot him a grin before taking a seat at the counter, ignoring Harry’s reminder that those seats were for employees only. 

“Lou, you are aware of the strange man outside your café, aren’t you? Isn’t it in Hazza’s employee contract to shoo away people like that?”

“It’s in his boyfriend contract, too, now that I think about it.” Louis replied with a wink as he stirred a tea bag around. “Nah, the bloke came in when we opened and asked if it was okay for him to camp out there. I asked how long, and he just said ‘as long as it takes.’”

“Really?”

“I suggested we run him off.” Harry put in as he handed someone a steaming cup of something that smelled heavenly.

“Only because he’s completely gorgeous.” Louis responded. When he noticed the sour look on the other lad’s face, Louis gave Harry’s bum a firm pat. “Right here, lovely. Right here.” Niall really didn’t want to know why Haz looked so smug about that.

“Right then. Here’s your usual, Niall.” Harry said, handing Niall a Styrofoam cup (Niall ignored Louis’ _harrumph_ of indignation, as he was accustomed to the elder’s opinion on tea in Styrofoam) and Niall paid and left a tip in the jar before claiming his usual seat by the heater. It was warm enough, even if the view outside wasn’t great; it still offered a pleasant view of the various customers and of the bum-who-wasn’t-actually-a-bum and his sign. 

Niall was familiar with the song by The Script, of course, since it was one of his favourite bands, but he never in his life expected to see anyone actually do it.  
But lo and behold, there was a man sitting on the corner with a cardboard sign that had a picture taped to it of a rather pretty girl and, in large black marker, “If you see this girl, will you tell her where I am?”

It was like something out of a story, really.

Niall tore his eyes away from the man and pulled out his school books and papers. Focusing wasn’t too hard, Niall found, but he did tend to glance up every few minutes. When Niall was finished with most of his work, he bought himself a cup of hot tea to keep him warm on the walk home, and he just happened to glance over at the man outside while he was waiting and he just happened to buy a cup of warm milk and a piece of banana bread that he just happened to set down next to the sleeping man before “accidentally” nudging him with a foot.

Niall was well away by the time the man had noticed the cup, but he did turn around to see a gentle smile on the man’s face.

* * *

This continued for a few weeks before Niall even actually spoke to the man.  
He’d been sitting in the café, as usual, and was watching the man, also as usual, when Louis walked over with banana bread and tea.

“Don’t get your hopes up,” Louis had told him, “It isn’t for you. I want you to take this to that man, the one you stare at all the time.”

Niall’s face turned red, but Louis only smiled and handed him the delicious-smelling food. Niall grabbed his own drink and his satchel before going outside and sitting next to the man.

“Hi!” He said warmly, obviously surprising the man. “These are for you. I’m Niall Horan, it’s nice to meet you.”

“Thanks. I’m Liam, Liam Payne. It’s nice to put a name to the gifts.” The man smiled, which made Niall turn even more red.

“Gifts?” He questioned, praying that Liam didn’t mean what Niall thought he did.

“The warm milk and bread.” Liam replied with a knowing grin. “I’m not always asleep, Mr Horan, and you’re not hard to spot.”

“Oh.”

“Really though. Thank you. It means a lot that someone cares.”

“Oh well, the bread and tea were actually Louis’ idea, he owns the place and he’s me best mate, so I can’t take all the credit.” Niall explained as Liam ate his bread.

“Well, I’ll thank him next time I see him.” Liam said with another smile. “I’m sure you’re popular around here. Every day you give these people money, just like the curly haired fellow. It’s quite honourable.” 

“It’s nothing, really.” Niall shrugged, deciding to change the topic—though he made sure to file that comment about ‘the curly haired fellow’ away for future reference. “So what’s your story? What are you doing here?”

“Danielle and I used to meet here, before a date. You can get pretty much anywhere from here. When she ended things, I was...not good. So, I came here, like the song. And I’ve been here ever since.”

“Wow. I don’t have the patience for that.” Niall said.

“I love her.” Liam replied, and the intensity in his voice was both frightening and saddening; Niall wished someone would love him like that. They were both quiet for a few minutes before Niall made a joke about bathing, and then they talked for another hour before Niall had to go. Even then, though, Niall went back in and bought Liam another cup of warm milk and another piece of bread.

* * *

This became the usual routine. Niall would appear, buy drinks and a snack for Liam, and then the two would sit and talk for hours. Three months after their first conversation, everyone but Liam himself knew Niall was in love with the man who wouldn’t move. Three months after their first conversation was also when everything changed.

It started when Niall rounded the corner to the café and saw a police car. Niall couldn’t help but notice as he got closer that Liam was standing, and then Niall noticed the policeman talking to Liam. 

“Li, what’s going on?” Niall asked carefully, looking from his friend to the officer.

“This man is disturbing the peace and refuses to come with me.” The officer told Niall; it was clear that he was annoyed, likely because of the dirty looks he was receiving. Liam had become commonplace now, and was nice to everyone, and he’d quickly become a beloved member of the street. 

“Which is ridiculous, because I was just sitting here!” Liam added, looking calm but frustrated.

“You’re trespassing, then.” The officer said. “And since I’ve no way of knowing if you do in fact have the owner’s permission to be here, come with me.”

“Wait just a minute!” Niall demanded, grabbing Liam’s arm in an attempt to keep him in place. “I know the owner, I’ll be right back and you can ask him yourself.”

When Niall returned five minutes later—after frantically explaining to Louis what was happening—with his intimidating-looking best friend in tow, the policeman was even more annoyed. It took only a few minutes to get things cleared and the officer on his way.

“Niall,” Louis said gently, “Why don’t you go home for the night?”

“What? Why?” The Irishman questioned, confused.

“Because I know how nervous cameras make you and I have a feeling there are about to be a lot of them.” Louis nodded his head toward the various news vans now lining the streets, anxious to be the first to tell about the real life Man Who Can’t Be Moved.

“Right. Get him his usual for me, yeah?” Niall requested. Louis just nodded, watching the news vans with an apprehensive look on his face. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Li.”

“What, you aren’t staying?” Liam sounded and looked so genuinely disappointed that Niall almost considered staying for a moment, until he caught a flash of sunlight off of a camera lens. Almost considered.

“Nah, I’m not a fan of video cameras. Give ‘em a good show, though, yeah?” Niall sent Liam a grin as he backed away, and he didn’t turn around until Liam had returned it.

The next day, the cameras were gone and Niall waved to Liam as he went inside to get their drinks.

“Thanks Lou.” Niall said, taking the cups from the man.

“You seem happier today, what’s up?” Louis questioned, nosy as ever.

“I’m telling him. Today.” Niall replied, repressing a nervous shiver.

“Oh. _Oh._ Oh my god.” Niall frowned at Louis’ words and was about to turn and follow his line of sight when Louis grabbed his drinks, forcing him to look back toward Lou. “Y’know, I think the milk in these is bad, lemme make you new ones.”

“Louis. They’re fine. Now please let go of them.”

“No, really.” Louis continued, still glancing toward the door, which only made Niall even more suspicious and annoyed, with a dash of nervous thrown in. “I insist!”

“What is it you don’t want me to see?!” Yelled Niall. It took only a moment to turn around, and maybe three heartbeats for his brain to register what he was seeing.

That hair was familiar. Too familiar, for it only took Niall a moment to recognize it as Danielle’s, Liam’s Danielle. It took another second or two for him to realize why he couldn’t hear their voices: they weren’t talking, though their lips were definitely moving.

Somewhere in the back of Niall’s mind, he realized Louis was talking and that he no longer held drinks and that everyone was staring at him as he shoved his way out the door. He heard Liam’s voice say his name but he ignored it, right up until he felt that familiar weight of Liam’s hand on his shoulder.

“Please let me go.” He mumbled. Of course, he should’ve known Danielle would come back, who could ever leave Liam forever?

“Niall please, she saw the news—”

“I need to get home to start dinner.” Niall _knew_ those video cameras were bad news, almost literally now.

“Niall, it’s four o’clock.”

“It’ll take a while.” _Stupid, stupid, stupid,_ Niall kept thinking, scolding himself for ever hoping. 

“Niall—”

“Please Liam. I need to go.” Even Niall was surprised by how broken he sounded. He figured that was what made Liam let go, made him step away in shock. “Goodbye, Liam.”

* * *

Niall didn’t go back to the café the next day, nor the day after that, nor the day after that. In fact, almost a week went by before he could no longer withstand the pull of Louis’ tea-making abilities.

He took the long way there, though halfway through he wished he hadn’t. Everyone he saw gave him a knowing smile, like he’d missed out on a joke that he himself had told. It wasn’t until he met Danielle on the way there that he truly regretted, though. She gave him the biggest yet saddest smile, and if it hadn’t stung so much to see her, he would have asked about it.

It turned out, however, that he only had to reach the café to get his answer.  
Liam hadn’t left.

That was what he realized first. Then, that he had showered. The cardboard in his hands was the last thing Niall noticed. The Irishman planned on walking straight by the man until he saw Louis in the window holding a sign that said “READ IT YOU DOLT!” Reluctantly, Niall dragged his eyes to the cardboard Liam was holding.

It was definitely not Danielle’s picture there. In fact, it was a fairly recent picture Harry had taking of Niall and Liam making silly faces. Niall looked up, confused, to Louis, who had underlined the word ‘read’ multiple times. So Niall did.

That was when he noticed that the pronouns were switched, saying 'boy' and not 'girl.' Niall’s eyes flew to Liam’s, which had been trained on him ever since he’d appeared. The blonde walked hesitantly toward the other man, who stood quickly. Niall had never noticed that Liam was taller than him.

“What...I saw you two kissing.” Niall whispered; he didn’t know why he was whispering, just that he was.

“Her. Not me.” Liam responded, also whispering.

“But...you waited four months for her.”

“Oh, Niall.” Liam said softly. “I stopped waiting for her after the first month.”

“The sign—”

“Was an excuse.”

“Then what were you waiting for?” Niall asked gently, slightly afraid of the answer.

“Warm milk. And banana bread.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one's my favorite. :)


	6. Surprises

Niall didn’t know when exactly the cat appeared at his doorstep. He knew it was before Joshua but sometime after he saw the strange lad following him in the market. To be honest, he wasn’t really worried about when it showed up; he was more concerned that someone would claim it one day. He was severely attached to the small thing.

The cat was brown, with stripes of deep chocolate and coffee-coloured eyes. It was always waiting for Niall when he got home and it followed him everywhere. It’s tag said its name was Liam, which Niall found fitting for some reason.

He told that cat everything, day after day, and Niall loved it, though he always sensed something off about it. It seemed too intelligent some days, like Liam really did understand him, or like the fifth day Niall came home bruised because he was a ‘fairy’ and Liam wouldn’t calm for the rest of the night. 

Niall grew to ignore the feeling after a while, and when he began dating Joshua, his time at home dwindled down to as little as possible. Liam became more attached to him, but Niall brushed it off as typical feline behaviour. That is, until Niall walked out of school one day to see Liam sitting on the school wall. 

Niall was furious and scared for his cat, mostly worried for the animal’s safety. Joshua didn’t like Liam, said the cat glared at him in a funny way (which was ridiculous, honestly, cats can’t glare at people period, so how could it be in a funny way?) Niall brushed that off as well, thinking it was only because Liam didn’t know Joshua and that he was just possessive. 

The night Niall came home sobbing was the last time he saw Liam the cat. Niall told his friend everything; how Joshua had dumped him because Niall wasn’t ready to go all the way and then Joshua had called him weak and pathetic and naive, and revealed that he’d been seeing other people—well, doing other people was more accurate—for the entirety of their relationship, and then Niall had run home crying. The Irish boy had fallen asleep with Liam in his arms and tears on his face, but when he woke at around one, the cat was nowhere to be found.

The next morning, Niall was greeted at school by Joshua being shoved toward him by that strange guy from the market (who really wasn’t terrible looking if he was being honest, especially compared to Joshua) Joshua apologised and then scurried away, glancing at the other lad in terror.

Upon further investigation of the stranger, Niall found that he had slightly tanned skin and hair the colour of warm chocolate, with eyes that matched the shade of lukewarm coffee Niall’s older brother Greg drank when he was home from uni. His leather boots and dark jeans were accented by his plain white tee and open plaid button-down. It took Niall a moment to notice his bracelet: a collar with a tag that read ‘Liam.’

The boy smiled at Niall as if it was the first time in five years that he’d seen him. No one but Niall reacted when two large black wings sprouted from the boy’s back and quickly disappeared. 

“Hello, Niall.”


	7. Just Waiting

Liam spent the first seven years of his life wondering who the boy in his head was.

All he knew was the boy’s face, nothing else, but it was enough to drive Liam mad with curiosity. The boy was blonde—maybe sixteen or seventeen—with crooked teeth and the bluest eyes that Liam had ever seen, with a touch of that sea green colour he loved. As he grew older, his parents explained that he was special, like his mum and his sisters, and he’d been seeing the face of the person who would one day cause his death. His mother saw a face too, like his sisters did, but she’d learned to ignore it in favour of thinking about Liam, his father, and his sisters.

Over the years, Liam learned how to ignore the face as well. He had friends—energetic Louis, quiet but caring Zayn, and surprisingly insightful Harry—who helped him to ignore the face.

Everyone has to face their destiny, though.

* * *

Liam was barely seventeen when rumours started circulating of a new student, seen in Administration that week. Even after it was clear that there was definitely a new student, Liam didn’t meet him until well into September. It wasn’t even something he meant to do. One minute he was walking down the hallway with Zayn chatting about the English paper and the next he was flailing wildly, trying not to fall from the force of the sudden impact.

“Oh my god! I am so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention I got distracted, I didn’t—Christ, I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, I was just startled is all.” Liam replied to the thick Irish accent.

“Liam!” Louis called from nearby, rushing toward him. “Oh good, you’ve met Niall! He’s new; Haz and I’ve already adopted him. Jesus, Liam, why are you bleeding?!”

“I ran into him coming down the stairs. Which I’m still really sorry about.”

“I told you before, it’s fine.” Liam choked a bit when he looked up to see pure blue eyes, blonde hair, and crooked teeth. 

“Liam? Are you okay, mate?” Zayn questioned worriedly.

“No! I mean yes, I am, but I’m going to the nurse, for this nosebleed.”

“I’ll take you.” Niall offered, making Liam die a little inside.

“ _No_! No, I’ll be fine. I’ll probably go home after, so don’t mind me, really.”

“If you’re sure. C’mon Niall we’ll go to next block together.” Zayn said, walking the worried boy away.

“I’m coming with you.” Louis stated. Liam just shrugged and made his way to the nurse.

* * *

Afterwards, as they sat waiting for Liam’s dad to get there, Louis was oddly quiet. Liam appreciated the silence as it gave him time to think.

“Do you remember,” He began hesitantly, “A few years ago, when I told you that I could see the face of the person who’d cause my death?”

“Yeah.” Louis responded weakly. “I still feel bad about laughing.”

“I would have. It sounds ridiculous.” He waited a moment before continuing. “Then, I showed you the picture my granddad drew when he was twelve, with the date at the bottom—”

“And then you showed us the police photograph of the guy who actually killed him when he was 64.” Louis finished. “I remember. Why are you bringing it up now?” Liam rose his eyes to Louis’ in a morose and meaningful gaze. It took a few minutes for the realization to spark, but when it did it hit like a train. “ _Niall_?!” Liam could only nod. “But he’s so...not deadly.”

“Nevertheless, it’s him. I’d recognize those eyes anywhere.” Louis shot him a suspicious look. “I’ve been looking at his face for seventeen years now, Lou, I’m going to recognize it.”

“That’s not what it sounded like though.” Louis replied softly. “It sounded like me, when I talk about...y’know.” Liam had already spoken his piece about how he felt on Louis having feelings for Harry and what he should do about it, but there was always a look that he gave the other boy whenever the subject was broached.

“That’s _not_ what it sounded like.” Liam denied as the nurse gestured to him that his father had arrived. “I don’t even know him.”

* * *

“You met him? And you’re one hundred percent sure that it’s him?” 

“Yes, Mum. I’ve been seeing him for seventeen years now, I _know_ what he looks like.”

“I understand, we just have to be sure.” Liam’s mum said. “Do you know what you’re going to do?”

“I can’t avoid him.” Liam replied. “Lou, Haz, and Zayn have already taken to him so well, and I won’t ask them to stop talking to him just because of this. Lou already knows about it being him, I’m sure he’ll tell the others.”

“Are you going to tell the boy?” Liam’s father asked, concerned, and wilted under their glares.

“What would I say? 'Oh hey, I met you yesterday when you ran into me, welcome to London, by the way you’re the reason I die!' I don’t think that would go over too well.” 

“I didn’t think about that at first, okay? I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I’m just worried.”

“The key,” His mother said, “Is to just accept that it’ll happen. Everyone dies, and yes it’s harder knowing things about it, but it still happens when it happens. Just let it. It gets easier when you accept it.

“Thanks Mum.” Liam gave both his parents a hug and was hit with a sudden wave of happiness that they were there to help him.

* * *

Slowly, Liam learned to relax around the Irish lad and began to genuinely enjoy his company. Niall fit in well with their little group, like they’d known him since birth. The blonde was funny, but not obnoxious about it; smart but not a snob; relaxed but not uncaring. Everyone has faults of course, and Niall was no exception; he was nosy, loud, never studied, and he never wanted anyone in his house. Nevertheless, Liam and Niall grew close, despite Liam’s reservations.

Liam learned over time that Niall was nosy because he cared and never stopped worrying about his friends. He never wanted anyone over because his brother Greg was a troublemaker, often drunk, and went to a low-class school because theirs wouldn’t accept him, and Niall was ashamed of his reckless elder brother. Liam could understand that, to a fault. His elder sister, Nicola, was unstable after their other sister Ruth’s untimely death, and he hadn’t wanted anyone over for a long time, even after she was better.

By the time the five of them went to university, Louis and Harry had gotten together, Zayn had a girl he was in the process of wooing, and Liam and Niall were the only single ones. One night, while they were Christmas shopping, Louis asked Liam about it.

“What do you mean, ‘why don’t I have anyone?’” Liam demanded.

“It’s just...I want you to be happy and lately you haven’t seemed too cheery. I’m worried. Even Niall said he’s got feeling for someone. He won’t say any more than that but—”

“Wait, Niall has feelings for someone?” Liam interrupted, trying hard to ignore the pain in his chest. “He hasn’t said anything about it to me. He’s actually been avoiding me lately...I wonder if that’s why.”

“Why would—Oh! Oh my god! You...and him! How—what! I can’t believe I didn’t see it before, _of course_!

“Louis are you okay?”

“You fancy Niall, don’t you Liam?” Louis asked, looking mischievous. Liam’s pale face and rushed denials were more answer than he needed. “I won’t tell him, I swear. I do need to call Hazza though, he owes me fifty quid.”

“Louis.” The lad looked up at Liam’s strange tone, obviously confused. “What is that ‘round your neck?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Louis replied innocently, scurrying off with his various shopping bags. 

“Louis Tomlinson, you get back here and tell me who gave you that ring!” yelled Liam, running after his friend.

* * *

Liam didn’t confess to Niall until their second year of uni, after a lengthy debate on what they were wearing to Louis and Harry’s wedding that winter. The knowledge that Niall would be the death of him weighed heavily in Liam’s mind, but he physically could not stop the words from coming, and they hung in the air over the two of them as they stood in their apartment.

“I love you.” Liam repeated in response to Niall’s whispered ‘what.’ “I have for a while. Damn the consequences and destiny, I love you Niall Horan, and it’s time you knew.”

“So do I.” Niall breathed, face red. “Love you, I mean. Since I first saw you in the hall and was literally knocked over by the sheer immensity of how stunning you were. I thought...” Niall laughed, despite the tears that were clearly pooling in his eyes. “I thought you were in love with Lou.”

“ _Lou_?!” Liam echoed, shocked.

“Yes, Louis! You guys were so close and you were so uncomfortable around me for so long and then you were so upset over him and Haz and then you were crying when they announced their engagement—there was evidence!”

“I was upset because they’d been hiding it, and I cried because I was so happy for them!”

“Why were you so close then?”

“Because he was the first to know about—” Liam stopped short, unwilling to mention that Liam had seen Niall since his own birth.

“You came out to him first, didn’t you?” Niall asked softly. Liam nodded. It hadn’t been what he was going to say, but it was true. 

“I’ve known him since I was five. I told him the moment it popped into my head; he was the first one I thought of. Not Mum or Dad or Haz or Zayn or Nicola. Louis. I think part of it was because he’d already been through all of that, and he could answer my questions. Then again...he’s Louis. Everyone goes to him about their problems. It was just natural.” 

It was quiet in their apartment for a long time before either of them spoke. “You love me.”

“Yes Niall. I do.”

“It’s just...what are we?”

“...In love?”

“Besides that, Li. Are we...together?”

“We could be. If you wanted.”

“I do. Want to be together.”

“So do I.”

“So we are.”

“We are.”

“Does that mean we can...”

“Can?”

“Nothing.”

“What—Oh.” Liam couldn’t help but grin at Niall’s blush. The Brit straightened from where he had been leaning against the wall and pulled the Irishman to his feet as he did so. “Yes Niall. We can.” Liam silenced whatever Niall had been about to say with a kiss.

* * *

Harry and Louis had been married for seven years when it happened. Zayn had recently celebrated his sixth anniversary with his wife, Sara, and Liam and Niall were approaching their own five year mark. Their daughter Charlotte was staying with Zayn, his wife and son Jeremy, and Louis and Harry’s two children, Rose and Max. Zayn had been happy to watch the four youngsters so the couples could have a night to themselves. Niall was driving he and Liam home from dinner, much to Liam’s discomfort—he still hadn’t told the Irishman about his ‘ability,’ but he had begged his mother and sister to help his daughter should she have questions and he not be there to answer them. He was glad a few moments later that he had.

Out of nowhere, something small and yellow bounced into the road, followed by a little boy. Niall swerved, and Liam knew that it was time. A van crashed into their car, sending them flying into another. The next Liam knew, he was being lifted into an ambulance, catching snippets of conversation.

...five hurt...only two serious...one death so far...blonde...little boy...hospital...

Later, Liam knew he was in a hospital bed, but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t feel anything, either, which he assumed was probably for the better, and could only hear talking nearby.

“Zayn, take Charlotte home. She doesn’t need to be here. I’ll call when it happens.” That was Louis, using his fatherly tone he always did when something was wrong. Liam heard Zayn say something in response, and then the door was closed. 

“Lou...” And that was Harry, sitting somewhere near Louis from the sound of it.

“He’ll be fine, Harry.” Liam’s father. He assumed his mother and sister were here as well. But where was—

“No he won’t.” Louis replied. “We knew this day was coming. He’s only holding on for Niall.” No one protested his statement.

“We’ve all said our goodbyes.” Nicola said softly. “Once he learns...he’ll go.”

“You were strong, Liam. Stronger than I’ve ever been.” His mother whispered to him. “I never had the strength to tell you when I met my person, the one I see. Now I can. Your sister, I know she sees Zayn. She won’t say, but I can tell by the way she acts and the way she looks at him. Your daughter, she’ll see someone, too, and I’ll help her the way I helped you. I’ll be terrified and nervous, but I’ll help her, because she deserves to have help, to not be alone, even if I do see her in my mind.”

“Can I...have a few minutes with him?” Louis asked softly. He was glad the elder man did, he needed time to process what his mother had said. He heard people leaving, and he knew only Louis was left.

“They don’t want you to know.” Louis told him. “They keep hoping you’ll wake up and be okay but I know. The only reason you’re alive at all is because you want to know about him. Well, we’ve been selfish long enough. Even Charlotte’s accepted it. She’s sad and she’s upset, but I think she’ll turn out okay, after a while. She’s gonna live with us, after you go. She’s said that’s what she wants. I think Zayn was a little hurt by that, but he’ll survive.”

_No. No there’s only one reason she would live with them, no, it can’t be true._

“Did you know,” Louis continued, oblivious to Liam’s objections and his voice shaking with tears, “That he could do it too? See a face, I mean. He told me a few months back. That’s why he ran into you that day. He’d seen his person for the first time. You saw each other. I almost started crying at how tragic it was. He kept asking why I looked so upset, so I told him. About you, and your ability, and seeing him. He was so upset, but he forced himself to stop crying and clean up, because it was Rose’s birthday dammit.”

_No. He can’t have known. Not for that long, not from Louis._

“He’s gone, Liam. Dead on arrival. There was nothing they could do. Everyone else lived, if that helps. Only you and some lady were seriously hurt, and she was better after a few days. You’ve been in a coma; two weeks now. Completely unresponsive, you little shit. But I knew, I just knew, that you were only waiting for someone to tell you. Well, I’m telling you. Niall’s dead. So you either go and be with him, or you stop fucking with us.”

Liam knew Louis would never lie to him, ever, especially about that sort of thing, and he knew in his soul that Niall was gone. Niall was dead, and in a few moments, he would be too. He just had to do something first.

He forced his body to respond to him, moving his hand where it lay under Lou’s. Slowly he squeezed the other man’s hand as hard as he could, showing through that small gesture how grateful he was to Louis, for everything. Louis squeezed back briefly, and then Liam was gone.


	8. Sway

Every day Liam walked to school, he passed by an abandoned park, all rust and creaking and general creepiness. Every morning Liam hurried past the foreboding place in an attempt to get as far away from the place as possible. In the afternoons, however he took his time as he passed the abandoned park with its merry-go-round and its swing-set and its slide. Liam supposed that there used to be more, but now there were only rusted remains lying on the ground. It wasn’t the rusted playthings that drew his attention though; it was the blonde boy in uniform pants and baggy tees carrying a large black bag dancing around the park, picking up the rubbish and tossing it in the bag. Every day, the boy was there, clearing up the grounds, and every day he would be dancing. No headphones, no radio, no music that Liam could hear. Nevertheless, the boy would dance.

One afternoon Liam was walking home with Zayn, just chatting about various things, when Zayn called to the dancing boy.

“What are you doing?!” Hissed Liam as he swatted at Zayn’s arm.

“You never shut up about him! Talk to the lad!” Zayn responded as the bloke made his way over to them.

“Hi! Is there something you needed?” The lad asked, voice lilting with an Irish accent.

“What are you doing here?” Zayn asked, looking around the lad to see the park.

“Cleaning up the park. I’m trying to fix it up for the kids nearby so they can play somewhere safe.”

“Why do you dance?” Liam asked finally, confused. “And what to?”

“I dance because it’s fun. And we aren’t well off enough for me to have an iPod or anything, so I just listen to the music in my head.”

“The music...in your head?”

“Yeah. In my head. Like when you’ve got a song stuck in your brain and you can’t help but hum it, it’s like that, just with a lot of songs.”

“Oh. Well then, we’d be best be off. Mum’s expecting us.” Liam nudged Zayn’s shoulder with his own. As they were walking away, Zayn turned to call back, “Hey, mate, what was your name?”

“Niall!” The blonde called back. “Yours?”

“Zayn! And this is Liam!”

“Cool. See you tomorrow, then!”

* * *

Liam watched through his walks home as the park slowly became usable. He figured Niall must either have a job that paid enough for him to buy new things or be an extremely skilled carpenter because every few weeks something new appeared. First a seesaw. Then a new slide. Then the merry-go-round, and a month and a half after that a swing-set. Every day, it seemed, a tribute to Niall’s hard work appeared. Every day, Liam stopped and talked to the teenager for a while, just to give the poor lad a break from his work; he even helped paint the swing-set and merry-go-round one week. After a few months, Liam noticed a rather large structure n the middle of the park, still under construction. Liam searched for Niall, unable to see him and eventually just called out for him. 

“Oh hey, Li.” Niall responded, climbing down from the top of the odd structure. Liam almost fell over at the sight that greeted him. 

Niall had always— _always_ —worn a regular tee and uniform pants when he worked in the park. Liam assumed that was because he went to school and then came straight to the park to keep working on it and just got out earlier than Liam did. In fact, he often saw Niall’s uniform shirt draped over a swing or in a bundle on the merry-go-round next to a water bottle. Now, though...he must have had a day off, because this was not anything close to his usual attire.

Niall’s white wife beater was soaked with sweat and clung to his chest, hugging the muscles that Liam didn’t even know existed. His cargo shorts showed off the lad’s toned calves and were weighed down by something in the pocket, giving Liam a brief look at the trail of hair hidden there when Niall jumped down from the structure. The snapback he wore backwards complemented his eyes and pulled his hair just enough so that when he took it off to adjust it, his hair looked like he had just gotten out of bed with someone.

Liam always knew he was different from the other lads, well most of them, because he didn’t like the soft curves of a woman’s body, not like _that_ anyway, and the other lads, well, that was all they cared about. He liked hard muscles, taut under his fingers, and the smell of testosterone in the air. Liam had never felt ashamed by this, but now, he was legitimately worried about the problem that difference was causing in his trousers at the sight of the Irishman. It took a few moments for him to remember how to breathe properly and he was suddenly glad for the waist-high fence that separated the park from the walkway. 

“Li? Are you okay?” Niall asked, blue eyes worried. 

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. I was just distracted is all.” Liam responded, forcing his eyes to stay on Niall’s rather handsome face, which he definitely had not been noticing over the past few months. “Um, I’ve got to go, I just wanted to make sure you weren’t hit by a falling board and half-dead.”

“Oh.” Liam was almost convinced that he saw Niall’s expression fall a bit. “Okay. I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then. Hey, maybe after I get this built, you can help paint it. Zayn too, if he wants.”

“I’ll be sure to ask him.” Liam waved his goodbye, turning around hurriedly so the Irish lad didn’t notice his not-so-little problem. When he turned back for a moment, it was only worsened by the hip thrusts Niall was doing on his way back to the structure.

Over the course of the next few days, Liam took a different route home. He needed time to think about what he was feelings, had been feeling for a while now, and he couldn’t do that properly if he was seeing the lad every day.

“He’s painting.” Liam jumped at the sound of Zayn’s voice. He’d been hiding in the library, unwilling to let anyone see him so deep in thought.

“He is? He’s finished building it?” Liam questioned; Zayn nodded.

“It looks amazing. He’s very skilled.” Zayn replied, sitting across from Liam in the abandoned aisle. “I’m going by today to see how much help he needs. If you wanted to—”

“I can’t. I’m sorry. I just...I don’t know what’s going on in my brain. I mean, I’ve thought about him like that before, but I never really _thought_ about it, y’know? I just ignored it, but they just won’t go away now.”

“Sounds to me like you have feelings for him.” Zayn said softly. “Like, romantic feelings. Maybe you should go and talk to him, Li. You never know, maybe he’s going through the same thing.”

“Yeah that’s a brilliant idea. ‘Hey Niall, it’s Liam; I know I haven’t seen you in days because I’ve been actively avoiding you but that’s only because I think I might be in love with you!’ Yes, Zayn, that will work perfectly.”

“Hey mate. _You’re_ the one that said love, not me.” Zayn stood up, sighing as he did. “Just talk to the lad, okay? I think you’d be surprised by what he’d say.”

“I don’t know if I can, Zayn. It’s just so...confusing.”

“Well think for a minute, yeah? You haven’t been by in over a week, Li, and last he saw you, you were acting completely mad. What would you think if you were him? You need to talk to him, Liam; even if it’s just to tell him that you don’t hate him.”

* * *

It hurt Liam to watch Niall.

He wasn’t dancing like he usually was; just swaying slightly as he glided a paint brush over the woods and left streaks of blue. 

Liam still had no idea what he was going to say to the Irishman, and instead of actually thinking about it, he opted to just watch the boy paint. As he watched, it became painfully obvious that Niall was said, and that paired with the lack of dancing spurred Liam to move, to fix it. He figured that if Niall was too upset to dance, he would just have to do it himself.

Liam’s hands were shaking as walked towards the other boy, but he forced himself to calm down. Niall hadn’t heard him approach, that much was clear when he jolted at Liam’s touch. Liam gently took Niall’s paintbrush and laid it on the ground, shushing Niall’s soft whisper of “Liam, what...?”

“ _When marimba rhythms start to play, dance with me, make me sway._ ” Liam sang softly, swaying them both gently. It took a few moments but eventually Niall turned in Liam’s arms, eyes closed, and pressed their foreheads together.

“ _Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore, hold me close, sway me more._ ” Niall continued, almost whispered. Liam grinned and pulled Niall closer, enjoying the warmth.

They stood like that for a long time, just swaying to music only they could hear. When they finally stopped it was because Niall pulled away, giving Liam a confused look. “I thought you hated me.”

“Never.” Liam replied quietly.

“You were avoiding me.”

“I was confused.”

“About?”

“You. And me. What we were and what I...wanted us to be.”

“Which was...?”

“More than this, that’s for sure.” Liam chuckled a little, laying his head on Niall’s shoulder and closing his eyes. Their hands were still locked together, and Liam squeezed to reassure himself. “I think I’m in love with you. I know I care about you, more than Zayn or anyone else, and in the same way Mum loves Dad, not like me and my sisters. I know I want to be with you, even though I hardly know you. I want to see you smile and dance and play guitar and tell stupid jakes that make me laugh too hard and build things like this because you’re a good person and just be happy.”

“I feel the same.” Niall whispered, stroking Liam’s hair as he did. Liam raised his head slowly and smiled. Niall was smiling again and it was so wonderful, so beautiful, it made Liam breathless.

“It’s about bloody time!” Zayn yelled from behind Liam. “Now can we stop with the mushy stuff and actually paint this thing, because that Niall-sized part that’s messed up doesn’t look too good.”

“Fine. But I’ll get you for this, Zayn Malik, just you wait.” Niall warned, picking up his paintbrush.

“What are you gonna do, dance at me?” Zayn teased, picking up his own paintbrush as he cocked a brow at the Irish lad.

“I could, yeah. Or, I could do this.” With a barely noticeable flick of his wrist, Niall had splattered paint over the front of Zayn, and Liam could only gape.

“Did that just get in my hair?” Zayn asked calmly, to which Liam nodded. “Come here, you little Irish twat!” Niall yelped and dove behind Liam for cover, who received the majority of the paint Zayn threw. “Well, that can be for saying you care for him more than me.”

“I’ll kill you both, I swear.” Liam told them as he picked up the large tub of paint and watched them run off. Liam caught the wink Niall sent his way and grinned; Niall was his now, and before long, everyone would know it by the blue paint that coated him.


	9. Viscum Album

“Niall James Horan, it is Christmas Eve! You are not going to deny me on my _birthday_!”

“Louis, it’s not time yet.”

“Bullshit!” Louis exclaimed from his spot on the sofa. Niall was beginning to regret his decision to let the other lad stay the night. “Niall. It is Christmas. You promised to tell him by Halloween.”

“Lou, he’s only just broke it off with Danielle. He needs time.”

“That’s an excuse and you know it. You’re just too chicken shit to say anything.” Louis stood, clearly upset and intoxicated. “I didn’t get with Hazza by being afraid of risks, Ni, and you won’t get Liam by keeping quiet.” Niall watched as Louis half-stumbled and half-stormed to Zayn’s empty room, glad he and Harry were at Liam’s for the night.

When Niall woke the next day and had stumbled into the kitchen bleary-eyed for the Christmas breakfast Louis had made, he was surprised to see all the lads sitting around the table; he was also unsettled by the way Liam dropped his eyes when they met Niall’s.

“What time’s it?” Niall asked, voice hoarse with disuse.

“About half-noon. We were waiting on you to get up so we could open gifts before we all head out.” Louis replied, sliding a large plate in front of the Irishman.

“Thanks Lou.”

Within minutes Niall had cleared his plate and all the lads were gathered around the small Christmas tree Zayn and he had put up a few days earlier. There were exactly twenty presents under the tree, as there had been for the past few years; one present from each to each. Niall cheated though, and wrapped two presents together to make one; it really wasn’t his fault that he always found such good things.

It took a few hours to get all the gifts open since only one was opened at a time and the following few minutes were spent inspecting it.

Niall felt rather proud of the gifts he’d picked out. He’d gotten Harry a boy full of beanies, and put some condoms inside each as the annual gag gift. For Louis he’d gotten a yacht cruise—redeemable at any time, which was the really tricky part—so that he and his family could go out and be together without worrying about fans and appearances, and a bottle of lube as well, as he had every year since Louis had come out. Zayn received a ‘Teach Yourself Piano’ book, since none of them time to actually take consistent lessons, and a bottle of hair dye (“To fix that blonde shit you’ve got!”) Liam’s had been harder, because it had to be absolutely perfect. That may have been due to Niall’s massive fancying of the lad, but nevertheless it was too prominent to ignore. He’d gotten Li another turtle—with the assurance that it wouldn’t eat another’s foot—and a curly wig to cover his shaved head. All the lads enjoyed their gifts, filling Niall with a cozy warmth.

The other lads did well also, on their quest to make each other laugh with useful things. Niall received a green mug that read “You can have my Lucky Charms anytime” from Zayn and a collection of guitar picks that were clovers and Irish flags from Louis. Harry had got him Irish Spring soap and the body wash he loved so much. Liam didn’t watch as Niall opened his gift: a giant box. When Niall finally pried the excessively taped box apart, it opened to reveal a gorgeous acoustic. It was dark, black edges fading to a grey centre, with a wood grain finish, but it didn’t feel like wood, nor did Niall recognize the brand at the top.

“It came from a Hawaiian company.” Liam said, still looking at his new turtle that he had yet to name. “I found them online and asked around; apparently they’re really food guitars.”

“This is amazing.” Niall breathed. He chuckled upon getting it out, seeing that the strap was the Irish flag. He strummed it a bit and almost died at the sound it produced. “Thank you so much.”

“It was nothing.” Liam replied, entirely too happy when Louis suggested they clean up a bit before leaving. All the lads were happy to help and everyone was ready to leave by the time it was clean.

Niall hung back since his flight to Dublin didn’t leave until later that night. He helped load the cars with everyone’s things and gave massive hugs to all of them except Liam, who’d elected to leave later, since he didn’t have as far to go. Niall felt himself turn red at the look Louis gave him but he hid it in the lad’s hug. Eventually everyone was gone and Niall and Liam were back in the flat, munching on crisps and watching bad telly.

“What happened to us?” Niall asked suddenly, startling Liam out of whatever he was thinking about. “I mean, we used to be so close, like Lou and Haz almost. Now it just feels so...awkward and tense.” _Well, besides the fact that I fancy you, I mean._

“I dunno.” Liam said, so soft it was almost a whisper. With a sigh, Niall stood and took the bag of crisps into the kitchen. He may have been a bit rough putting them away, but he didn’t exactly care. He was heading back to get his new guitar and put it up when he almost collided with Liam.

“Oh, sorry mate.” Niall mumbled. He was startled for a minute when he moved to pass and Liam stopped him. Niall looked at the other lad curiously, following his gaze upward nervously. He wished he could just disappear when his eyes rested upon a sprig of mistletoe. “I didn’t know Lou had put any up this year.” Liam mumbled, still focused on the plant.

“It’s just a dumb tradition; you don’t actually have to...y’know.” Liam looked down at Niall’s words, cheeks slightly pinkened and an odd look in his eyes.

“You asked what changed.” Liam stated. Niall nodded hesitantly. “I...I lied. I know what changed. I just didn’t want to admit it. I can’t find the words to tell you because I’m extremely nervous so I suppose I’ll just show you.”

“What?” Niall questioned. His brain didn’t get much farther after that, detoured instantly by the feeling of Liam’s lips on his.

Niall was sad when Liam pulled away, still slightly pink, but the smile he received was worth it.

Two hours later, Niall and Liam were cuddled on the couch, warm under the blanket and paying no attention to the movie that was on. They intended to stay that way for a while—until Niall had to leave to catch his flight—but Liam’s sister called and told him to part his lips from Niall’s and get his arse up there. Liam left—albeit reluctantly—with the promise of a phone call that night and that he’d be over the moment he got back. Niall got his phone with a contented sigh and dialled.

“Hello?”

“Louis.”

“It’s about bloody time! How long we were gone before he made his move?”

“Are you serious?! You knew?!”

“Of course I knew, I always know!” Louis laughed then, and Niall couldn’t stop his grin. “Merry Christmas, Ni.”

“Merry Christmas, Lou.”


	10. Cardboard Boxes

When I was sixteen, I fell madly in love.

It wasn’t like most people, where there was a time when I fancied him and we were best friends and then we had a row and realized how much we loved each other. That’s definitely not how it went.

We were friends, you could say. Not mean to each other, but not terribly close; it was hard to get close to the most popular boy in school. We were polite, that’s all. 

Until I fell in love with him.

Liam Payne was nice to everyone in the school. No exceptions. That’s not why I fell in love with him, though. I mean, I always did fancy him a bit, he was Liam Payne, _everyone_ fancied him a bit, but I fell in love with him for other reasons.

It was a Tuesday, walking home from school, and Liam was walking ahead of me, like every day since we lived rather close to each other. It was honestly the highlight of my day. That Tuesday was different though. I don’t know what happened but he just stopped, rested against the nearby wall, and slid down until he was sitting. I could hear his sobs from a block away.

“Liam?” I called, hurrying forward to help. “Are you alright?”

“It’s just so hard! Why is it so hard?!” He screamed at the air. Needless to say, I was alarmed.

“Er...what exactly’s hard?”

“Every minute of every day, I smile and act and pretend that everything fine! Well I’m done! I’m done with it all!”

“Okay then.” I replied. “I’m glad you’ve made decision.”

“It’s so fucking frustrating! I don’t want to pretend anymore!”

“So don’t.”

“What?”

“Don’t pretend. Be yourself.” The look I received upon saying that made it clear that the idea of not pretending anymore hadn’t ever crossed his mind.  He looked at me with a strange fascination in his eyes, but it was gone as he stood and hugged me.

“Thanks.” He said. “Thanks very much. I...yeah. Sorry about that.”

“No worries. Everyone has those boxes they put things in inside, and some people think that they’re like, steel or iron, but they’re not. They’re just cardboard. It’s pretty easy to break ‘em, so you gotta clear ‘em out every once in a while.”

“Yeah. I s’pose so.” And with that, he walked away. We talked a bit more after that, never really at school, but we became each other’s dump for our boxes; we could just talk and talk and talk and neither of us would care. We would listen and offer advice if it was needed or wanted and we went on our ways. 

Everyone thinks I fell in love with Liam Payne, star athlete and music prodigy. But I didn’t. I fell in love with a Liam Payne that the world had never seen before, on a sunny Tuesday afternoon, when his cardboard box broke and I was the only one around to help tape it back together.


	11. It All Starts With A Touch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning!!!! Mentions of blood and death in this chapter, okay, I don't want anyone to be triggered because of that! I repeat: THERE IS BLOOD AND VIOLENCE AND DEATH IN THIS CHAPTER.

27 April.

Liam always dreaded these days, the days he saw after the first touch.

Liam didn’t know how he came to have the ability he did. It had always been there, since he was little. His mother had him homeschooled after only a few months of public school. As he’d gotten older, he’d learned how to mask his reactions, how to move through a crown without even so much as a brush of skin. He knew not to tell anyone about the dates he saw, not even on the day of. It just made things harder.

Liam had the ability to know the day a person would die. Neither the year nor circumstances, just the day and month. It was never anything spectacular, like fireworks in his brain; he just touched someone and then knew the knowledge was there, just like he knew the names of the American presidents and the Catholic popes.

He was usually very particular in the school corridors about not touching people. He wore gloves constantly and avoided physical contact. Of course, contact was almost required when you went to a school with hundreds of other teenage boys.

Liam had been wonderful about keeping to himself. There were only a couple times that he’d slipped and brushed someone in the hallway, and while it haunted him, he made sure to ignore the people for a long time, until he had forced himself to forget.

Liam had even managed to make friends at his all-boys boarding school. Louis, Harry, and Zayn were all aware of Liam’s Touch Rule, as they called it, and were always careful to keep their distance—which quite honestly was a magnificent feat for Louis and Harry, as they were always touching someone. Liam was happy with his friends, even if he couldn’t hug them like he wanted when they were upset, and he was fine with not dating any of their sister school’s students because he wouldn’t be able to have any fun anyway. But of course, life never leaves anyone content for long.

It began a few days after Louis and Harry’s six month anniversary, when Harry’s friend transferred to their school from some Irish one. Liam wasn’t in love at first sight, he told himself as the blonde introduced himself as Niall Horan. He was positive of that much, at least.

A few months later, he wasn’t so sure.

Niall knew of and respected Liam’s rule about touching, and as touchy-feely as he was with the other lads, he gave Liam space. Over the few months since he’d arrived, Niall had managed to River Dance his way into everyone’s heart, and Liam knew that he wasn’t the only boy who was smitten with the Irish lad.

And then Liam had to ruin everything by having the worst timing in the history of the universe.

After all, Niall had ever right to be walking out of his own bathroom—nothing but a towel around his waist—and it was entirely Liam’s fault that he entered Niall and Zayn’s dorm room without even looking and ran headfirst into Niall’s chest (which was awesome and muscular and oh so hard, for the record).

“Oh, dude, I’m so sorry!” Niall had said, obviously wondering how to help and not touch at the same time, but it was too late.

27 April. The day Niall would die.

Liam avoided the Irish lad for weeks after, until April rolled around. 27 April was spent with the lads watching movies and Liam constantly checking on Niall.

28 April was when Niall cornered him and kissed him, right on the lips, rule be damned. Liam almost had a stroke.

After that, Liam gave up on keeping Niall away. He already knew the day, and there was no chance of him forgetting that one. And then, Niall became the only one allowed to touch Liam. If Liam was upset, one of the lads would call Niall and he came, no matter what he was doing, to help, because he knew he was the only one who could.

But every year, 27 April came and was met with a worried and panicked Liam, spending the day with Niall in bed to keep him at least a little bit safer.

He never expected this.

Twelve years had passed since Niall touched Liam. Twelve long years in which 27 April came and went with no incident, no death of a blonde Irishman who was dearly loved.

Liam should have known better.

Niall had to work on their anniversary, much to his annoyance, and they’d decided to celebrate on the 27th instead of the 28th . Well, it was more like Niall asked, and Liam gave in because honestly, he never could deny the blond anything. Liam had begged, though, for a quiet night in, but Niall was adamant that they go out for this, that it was important. They’d enjoyed their time at the restaurant, even if Liam was slowly going crazy with worry and Niall looked nervous the entire time. Liam really should have expected that Niall would die the same way he had lived: selflessly.

They had to pass a petrol station to get back to their flat; it wasn’t the worst, but it still made Liam nervous. They stopped to get a drink, Niall had insisted and it wasn’t like Liam could refuse, especially not on 27 April, and lo and behold, maybe five minutes later, four men came in, guns shining in the fluorescent light.

Liam was a cop, he knew how to handle himself in situations like this, but instinct told him that these guys wanted blood. That of course was when Liam noticed the young mother and her baby, the elderly man, and the teenage girl puttering around. The teenager got out before the guys made their move, and Liam was tugging Niall toward the exit when it began. Bullets were flying and training kicked in before Liam could think, throwing himself to the ground. He pulled his gun—which he had started carrying ever since he’d gotten it, never once leaving it behind, and sure as hell not on 27 April—and he managed to hit on in the leg before they all ran out. Liam stood, searching for his Irishman who had disappeared. He found Niall toward the windows, bleeding profusely from a wound in his side and trying desperately to stop the bleeding of the young mother whose body was already pale and getting colder.

“Niall, it’s too late, she’s gone. Niall, you’ve got to let me help you, I can’t get to the wound!” Liam yelled, only half-aware of the crying baby.

He was too late, in the end.

Niall bled out, an engagement ring still tucked safely in his suit pocket, trying to save a dead woman, and Liam could only watch and try to keep pressure on what part of the wound he could reach. On 27 April, and elderly man witnessed a baby girl become an orphan and young man become a widower.

Liam never married. He did, however, fight for custody of the baby. Her mother was dead, her father a ghost, and no relatives came forward or were even found. So Liam took the girl and raised her as his own. Her name was Charlotte, and though it was impossible not to touch her, he forced the day out of his mind, forced himself to keep steady every year because of course he would lose everyone to that same curse, that one number that had haunted him since he was sixteen years old and would continue to follow him until he died.

Because of course his daughter would die on 27 April, just like her mother and his would-be husband, like he likely would. Because no other day would ever be as worthy or as obvious or as terrible as 27 April.


	12. Beginnings

Niall enjoyed parties, he really did. He loved meeting new people, drinking, catching up with his mates, watching people get smashed and act like idiots. He really, truly enjoyed partied.

Just not New Year’s parties that Liam attended. Well, and party that Liam attended, if he was being honest.

It wasn’t that he hated the lad; they were actually really close. He just hated seeing Liam make a fool of himself. Niall always had severe second-hand embarrassment at these parties. The lad honestly couldn’t handle his alcohol, not even if his life depended on it. And yet, as awful as it always made Niall feel, here he was, as usual, watching Liam make an utter fool of himself. 

It was only when the brunette declared that he was going to strip along to the countdown—which Niall honestly wouldn’t have had a problem seeing, if it wasn’t in a room full of other people—that Niall intervened, grabbing him and leading the drunk boy away from the small crowd that had gathered. 

“Ni! I didn’t know you were here! Are you having fun? Why did you stop me, I was enjoying it!”

“Liam, we came here together.”

“Yeah, but I thought you’d left already! Wait, Ni.” Liam stumbled to a stop, brow furrowed. “Why do you look like that?”

“Like what?

“Like that! Like…like you’re mad at me!” Liam’s face fell along with Niall’s heart. “Are you mad at me?”

“No, Li, I’m not mad at you.” Niall told him, pulling the drunk along and trying to get him somewhere decently safe. 

“But you’re upset. Why’re you upset? It’s not good to start the new year upset.”

“Li, I’m not—”

“I know! Let’s go for chips!”

“Liam. It’s five to midnight on New Year’s Eve. There’s no chips place open right now.” Niall was trying to be patient, he really was, but he honestly just wanted to go back to his flat and go to sleep. He didn’t care about 2013, he cared about getting Liam somewhere he couldn’t hurt himself. 

“Wait, what about the ice cream place near your flat? Isn’t it owned by that Chinese lady? They’re always open on New Year’s!”

“Liam, we can get ice cream tomorrow after lunch. Right now, we need to get home.”

“Fine. But I just wanted to cheer you up. I hate it when you’re not smiling, you should always smile. You have a beautiful smile, Ni.”

“Come on, Liam, you’re more drunk than I thought.”

“I’m not _always_ drunk when this happens, y’know. Sometimes I fake it, just because I enjoy it.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Li?”

“When you take me back to yours. like the way you take care of me, so I pretend. I was pretending that night.”

“What night?” Niall asked through the lump in his throat. He really didn’t need to ask, he knew which night Liam was talking about, but he still hoped for a different answer.

“The night I kissed you. And you wanna know something? I have never stopped wanting to do it again.”

“This is ridiculous, Liam. You don’t know what you’re saying, you’re drunk.” 

“I’m drunk, yeah, but I’m not _that_ drunk! I only said I’d strip so you’d get us out of there.”

“We’re only a couple more minutes from my flat, Li. Can you just…stop?”

“But—fine.”

Liam was quiet as they walked the rest of the way, quite obviously sobering up. Niall was glad the other was quiet, because he really didn’t need to be reminded of how unrequited his love was. Neither of them said anything until they were inside Niall’s flat. 

“Niall—”

“Please. I just want to sleep.”

“Will you please just look at me?” Niall sighed but did as requested, stopping outside the door to his flat. “I know this isn’t a great time because I’m still sobering up and I said some stupid things, even if they were true, but I need you to know this.

“I’ve been in love with you for two years now and I am sick of you looking sad. I see how you are sometimes around Louis and Harry, or Zayn and his girl, like you wish you had that too. Well I want to give you that. I want to make you happy! Please, Niall. I kissed you that night because I was tired of resisting the urge, not because I was drunk. Now I am completely sober and quite honestly freaking out that you’ve stayed quiet all this time. Are you okay?”

“No. No I’m not, and I need to sleep right now, and you are clearly still drunk and we just have to—”

“Niall. Look at me. Do I look like I’m still drunk?” Niall really didn’t want to admit that he looked sober, instead turning and making his way inside the flat. Cheering from across the hall reached them and a glance back at the clock told him why. 

“What a way to start the new year.” Liam mumbled, letting go of Niall’s arm. Niall hated how defeated the older lad sounded, like he’d just given up.

“I…I’m sorry.” Niall said softly. “I just can’t have you forget this or not mean it, because that would completely ruin me, Liam, I just can’t take that, okay? Because…because I’m so fucking in love with you that it hurts sometimes, Liam, and I just can’t deal with the pain of losing this hope. So please, just…please be sober enough to mean it.”

“I will always mean it.”

The kiss was expected, considering the preceding conversation, and it was still absolutely brilliant. What was unexpected was how both of them seemed to revert back to teenagers after their skin touched and ended up in bed ten minutes later. 

The following morning, Niall woke to a pleasant warmth surrounding him. He spent at least five minutes just looking at Liam’s sleeping form. It was still hard for him to believe that last night had happened. He probably would have convinced himself that it had been a dream, had it not been for the fact that they were both naked and his arse was hurting like—well, like he’d had sex. Liam smiled when he woke up and Niall did the same, unable to stop, really. 

It was a happy New Year, indeed, Niall thought as he showered later that day after round who-knew-what-number. A very, very happy new year.


	13. Restless

Niall jerked awake, rubbing his eyes. He didn't know what had woken him up, but whatever it was had woken Liam as well. The realisation hit him when he saw the open door. 

"What's wrong?" He mumbled, opening his arms. The door closed and only seconds later he had an armful of brown curls. "What happened, princess?"

"I had a bad dream, Papa." Niall heard a soft sniffle and Liam adjusted the blankets to cover the three of them. "Can I sleep in here?"

"Of course you can, Charlotte." Liam soothed, pressing a kiss to the six year old's forehead. 

"Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"Will you and Papa sing to me?"

"Of course we will, baby."

Niall began to hum as Liam started to sing softly, rocking their daughter and stroking her hair. Liam took up humming as Niall sang. " _Now she's feeling so low, since she went solo, hole in the middle of my heart like a polo,_ " They hadn't even finished the first chorus before Charlotte was asleep, curled between the two of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget you can follow me on Tumblr at [erlovelace.tumblr.com](http://erlovelace.tumblr.com/)!!


	14. Accusation

Liam wasn't angry. He really, truly wasn't. Disappointed, maybe. Sad, yeah, he'd admit that. But angry? No, he wasn't angry. Not when his family back in Wolverhampton didn't call; not when his mates, _including_ Andy, didn't text or anything; not even when the lads rushed off when Liam's solo shoot began, the last one of the day. He wasn't even mad now, when Niall's spot was empty, signifying the lads hadn't even come to their flat. 

Liam wasn't angry. He was just alone. On his birthday. Which Niall had promised to be there for. He forced himself not to sigh as he unlocked the flat and turned the light on. He made his through the empty flat to his and Niall's bedroom, where he threw down his keys and shed his jacket. 

"Li! You're here! Good, finally, c'mon!" Liam turned at Harry's voice, cocking an eyebrow at the lad. "We didn't know how long your shoot would take so we had to hurry. Come on, quickly."

"Harry, I just want to go to sleep." Liam said as he rolled up the sleeves on the maroon dress shirt he'd been allowed to keep from the shoot. 

"But...now, you've got to come! We worked so hard!" Harry whined, eyes widening until they resembled a kicked puppy.

"Harry, please. It's my birthday, no one's even so much as smiled at me all day, and I just want to sleep."

"No. You're coming with me." Harry demanded, pulling Liam by the arm out of the flat and into the lift. He didn't let go until they were outside, walking around the building and into the garden/pool area. 

"Hazza-"

"Surprise!"

Liam honestly wanted to cry. How the lads had even gotten everyone here in time was a mystery. Last he knew, his sisters were on vacation in Maui. And now they were hugging him, grinning like the mischievous little devils they always were. 

"You can blame Niall for everything." Ruth told him. "He forced us to not do anything because he was convinced that we would blow it."

"We would have, but still." His mother said, smiling. "Happy birthday, dear. Now go and see your cake; it's absolutely marvellous." Liam obeyed and almost had a coronary when he saw it. It was at least seven layers tall, not including the mountain of cupcakes surrounding it, and each layer was something different. One was the band, one was Batman, one was Superman, the largest was Toy Story. It was wonderful. 

Liam spent the next three hours going around to everyone and just talking to them all. It was almost three in the morning before he finally found Niall. Well, before Niall found him. 

"You are going to be the death of me." Niall mumbled, tugging Liam away from the group he'd been talking to. "That shirt, those sleeves, and your damned arms."

"Niall, what in the world--where have you been? I couldn't find you anywhere." 

"I was setting up. Now come on" Niall turned, leading Liam through the crowd. 

"Wait, Ni, where are we going? Lou, where is he taking me?" The elder boy just patted Liam's head. "Can't we just stay out here?" 

Niall stopped, sighing, only a few feet from the lads. "Liam, we can stay out here if you want, but I don't think our mates and your family are very into voyeurism. Except Zayn, he'd probably get off on it."

"You know it." Zayn called from the cooler nearby. 

"Oh." Liam breathed, quite obviously turning red. 

"Exactly. Now let's go."

Liam didn't stop Niall again until they were in their room and Liam had dropped to his knees.


	15. Chapter 15

“Liam! Liam, have you seen Niall?” Louis asked, looking completely distraught.

“No, last I saw he was at the bar, checking out some bloke.” Liam replied, worried. “Why, what’s wrong?”

“We haven’t seen him for a while and he left his snapback on the bar, Li, you know how much he loves those things, he would never—”

“Louis, calm down. He’s probably in the loo with that guy—”

“That _guy_ was the same one who tried to drug Zayn, Liam. It’s the _same guy_. And it was Ni’s Nandos snapback, Liam. He would never.”

“I’ll find him, Lou. Go get the others, get our things. Lou, I promise you, I will find him. Now go.” Liam didn’t wait to see if Louis was moving, he was already fighting the crowd of people to get closer to the walls where he had a better chance of seeing something.

“Liam! There!” His head whipped around to see Zayn and then snapped to where the tanned lad was pointing. Indeed there was a flash of black hair tinted with every colour of the rainbow. Liam surged forward, vaulting through the door Rainbow Hear had just went through. It didn’t take long to find the creep, and Liam was seeing crimson as he pulled Rainbow away from the Irish lad.

“You stay away from him!” Liam roared, putting himself between the two. “You need to leave. Before you get hurt.”

“Whatever, mate. He wouldn’t have been very god anyway.” Rainbow left with a scowl before Liam could move.

“Li, it’s…you came. He said you wouldn’t. Said you wouldn’t get here. You did. You came for me.” Niall muttered, looking absolutely wrecked and slightly terrified.

“I’ll always come for you, Ni. Even when we’ve had a row. Now let’s get you home.”

“Love you, Li.”

“Love you too, Niall.”


	16. Snowflake

“Liam!” The elder man snuggled deeper under the blankets at the sound of his name. “Liam Liam Liam Liam Liam Liam Liam Liam Leeeeeeeeeeeeee-yuuuuuuuuuuuum!”

“No, Ni, I’m sleeping.”

“But Liam! Li, it’s snowing!”

“It’ll be snowing in an hour.”

“You don’t know that, Li!”

“Niall.”

“Liam. It is the first snow of the year. Get your arse out of bed so I can throw snowballs at it.”

“It is too damn cold, Niall.”

“Liam, get up before I move out and you are sex deprived for the rest of your life.” Liam was silent for a moment, weighing the two options, and let out a yelp when Niall hit him. “Liam Payne, you are not considering that!”

“Of course not, dear.” Liam replied, reluctantly emerging from the cocoon of blankets. “Give me a few minutes to get ready.”

“Yes! I’ll get everything for the snowman!”

“Leave the blueberries alone! We aren’t using those like last year!” Liam called. 

“Yes dear!” Liam sighed, knowing he’d have to clean up the blueberries again this year.


	17. Flame

Niall enjoyed his job. It was hard and the dance rehearsals were gruesome, but the fans loved it and he loved it and when he got home he could have a hot bath and then snuggle into bed with Liam. It was a good job. And he was happy, of course, to be able to come home to the man he loved and know the fans accepted it. 

He was not happy to come home to smoke pouring out from under the door.

“Liam!” He cried, throwing open the door and promptly trying to cough up one of his lungs. “Li!”

“Kitchen! Sorry, sorry, it’s really not as bad as it looks!” Niall followed the voice to the stove, where Liam was fanning a fire. “It won’t go out!”

“Liam, stop fanning the bloody thing, it might get bigger.” Niall commanded, reaching for the extinguisher by the fridge. “Christ, Li, what were you doing?”

“I was trying to make you dinner. You cook for me all the time, I wanted to return the favour for you.” Liam replied dejectedly as Niall put out the fire and opened the windows and balcony doors.

“Thank you for the thought, Li. Now how about we order something and take it to Hazza’s flat so this place can air out a bit.”

“That’s fine. I’m sorry I almost caught our flat on fire.”

“It’s fine. I won’t even tell the lads about it.”

In the end, no one had to say anything. Zayn figured it out the moment they stepped in still smelling like smoke.


End file.
